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Through a Glass, Darkly (Self Portrait)
The book of my life
Is a work of fiction
Sometimes you see me
Sometimes you don't
Mirror images of me
Open the first curtain to catch a glimpse

Chapter I
I am not a happy go lucky kind of girl,
I am loneliness
A quiet soul that walks the earth
Never stirred but dust behind me
A few memories of broken glass

Chapter II
I used to draw
My fingers loved to create demons made of charcoal
I could not stop them
Until the day I burned them
My hands are ghosts now
They haunt me
In my dreams I can paint beautiful portraits of color
Only in my dreams

Chapter III
A voice of a girl I knew
Keeps playing in my head
She sings a song about freedom
Her name is: LIBERTY

Chapter IV
The haunting continues
I see her stretching her hands and calling me to come with her
I wake up
I stand up
I walk towards the door
I hold my gun and shoot Hate in the face
I kill the East who circumcised my femininity
I keep my dagger for slashing the throat of Fear
With blood on my hands
I feel clean, pure, resurrected
The wounds will always be there
A reminder of emancipation

I became Simplicity with its modest smile
Always quick to offer a helping hand
I do not know lazy, carefree days
My heart wanders
And my adventurous soul, ready to leap

By Farah

© 2015 Farah (All rights reserved)

This poem was written for the Ten Word Challenge,
10/10 Week*

This week's words:

Harvest - Equinox - Acorn - Foliage - Branches - Hues - Migration
- Growth - Frost - Gourd

* 10/10 Week - all ten words must be used in only ten
lines of verse.

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